Netherbane

Demon Hunters in the World of Warcraft

The Gained Champion

In the aftermath of the third knock and another triggered "fit" that leaves her weak and reeling under the suspicions of an anguished mob, Rhoelyn must turn to her daring rescuer, Elishtar Fangblade, to help her get back to the safety of her home. The two discuss what's happened as they walk and eventually discover that they have more in common than they'd realized.

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Veldrinas: Requiem

Dalaran

Veldrinas stood on the outer grassy edge of the city of Dalaran with his hands clasped behind his back, and though he stood stock straight, his posture was relaxed.

He gazed south with a stony expression towards the wide open ocean as the sun began to set. It was a beautiful vista. But he did not smile and take pleasure in the rare moment. His thoughts were preoccupied with the recent happenings. Sraath, the Burning Legion, the rekindled faction war, the burning of Teldrassil, and the subsequent siege and Alliance pyrrhic victory over the Horde in Lordaeron.

Unbidden, an old memory came to the surface. One from so long ago, it could have been from a different person.

Then again, I was. Veldrinas thought wryly.

* * *

The sun was nearing the horizon  and Veldrinas had awoken early. He stood outside his abode in Ashenvale, watching the sun give way to the coming of night. Standing next to him, leaning on his shoulder, was his wife, Faelivren. His arm was around her, and they were both smiling, blissful even.

* * *

The memory faded and Veldrinas was brought back to the present. At last, the demon hunter indulged in a little smile. After a few more moments, he spoke softly.

"We succeeded, my love. The Burning Legion has been defeated. At long last, your spirit may find peace."

As the hunter continued to watch the day fade to the onset of night, he could have sworn that someone was standing next to him, leaning on his shoulder, her silver hair flowing in the gentle breeze.

Gearing Up

"These?"

Ary looks at the full, heavy boots and wrinkles her nose. "Isn't there something... lighter?"

"Ary, if you buy sandals, you may as well just go barefoot, again. Boots." Sedra sighs.

"They make my feet hot and my toes feel constricted." She reluctantly takes one boot from Sedra's grasp looking at it. "What about a normal shoe or slipper?"

Now it's Sedra's turn to wrinkle her nose, the expression a little more hidden under her cowl. Making an exasperated sound in the back of her throat, she looks around the shop's wares once more and wanders a few steps away to look at a shelf of shoes.

"No slippers. Useless things, those fabric footwraps..." She sighs and picks up a pair of sturdy shoes, really low ankle boots in a light leather save hardened and shined toes. Though she gives them a bit of a dirty look, she holds them up to Ary. "These might still save your fleshy bits."

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Warnings

"Yes," Rephaia sighed. "I am aware that the Soulthorn's wards make things difficult. I am the one who warned you about them, architect. Just do the best you can."

"Confessor," the large draenei replied, exasperation lining his voice more so than any other emotion, "many of my workers have been injured already. The path near the tower has claimed blood from at least four of my own. I have left one there to look for other triggers, but we cannot keep working under these conditions. Those wards need to be taken down!"

The Lightforged paladin shook her head with a deep frown. "No. We have received word that the Horde is moving on Ashenvale, and they may already be here. We cannot afford to take down any of the defensive wards."

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